


Hegemony

by Kawaiibooker



Series: A Theory of Piracy [7]
Category: One Piece
Genre: Bickering, Blood and Injury, Captivity, Enemies to Friends, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Wano Arc (One Piece)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-31
Updated: 2020-06-05
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:00:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24474670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kawaiibooker/pseuds/Kawaiibooker
Summary: he·ge·mo·ny(n.)A dominant influence or authority over others.*One cell, two captains and an uncertain future ahead.
Relationships: Eustass Kid & Monkey D. Luffy, Eustass Kid/Killer (background)
Series: A Theory of Piracy [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1682008
Comments: 13
Kudos: 170





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Set in Wano. Spoilers for Act Two of Wano. Content warning for... Kidd (= bad language).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta-read by [Pitte](https://twitter.com/PPitteArt).

It so happens that, one day, Eustass ‘Captain’ Kidd finds himself in a prison cell.

It’s not terribly big, perhaps ten by twenty steps and bland as all hell to boot. Stone floors, metal bars, a corner to sleep in and a bucket to shit in, nothing fancy about it. Standard fare, not that Kidd would have much experience with that.

There’s no brig on the Victoria Punk. The Kidd Pirates don’t take prisoners.

Of course, the reasons _why_ Kidd’s in the cell aren’t that simple. None of it has been, this whole sordid tale of alliances and betrayal and a war botched before it could even begin. It’s too late for regret, far too late yet Kidd can’t quite rid himself of it, this cloying sensation that writhes just under the surface. Like peeling back his skin is all it would take to expose the maggots and rotting flesh beneath–

 _Don’t be dramatic_ , Killer would tell him right about now and he would be _right_.

And yeah, perhaps Kidd is throwing himself a fucking pity party. It’s not like there’s anything else to do in this shithole, every night spent with his thumb up his ass or dreaming about things he can’t change. His wounds sting as they heal; Kidd scratches at the newly-formed scabs out of sheer boredom, watches blood well up and dry in interesting patterns.

The ones he can reach that is, chained to the wall like a mutt by his remaining hand.

Ain’t anybody here to stop him, anyways – certainly not Killer, wherever he ended up, nor Heat nor Wire or any other member of his crew. They’re lucky if they even have a ship to return to, as things stand.

Kidd laughs, loud and a little unhinged. They couldn’t have fucked themselves over any worse if they _tried_.

Night turns to day, the morning sun a bright smudge beyond the bars of his cell as it struggles against the haze of smoke gathering above. The guards return for another day of work, same as the last and the one before that.

Kidd gets to his feet. His stomach growls.

He’s long stopped laughing.

*

By the end of that day, things change.

It’s black as pitch outside, the movements of Kaido’s goons vague in the shadows. There’s no mistaking the sound of a body hitting the floor, though. The clinking of shackles dragging across stone, forceful steps – Kidd closes his eyes and thinks, _too slow_ , as the door slams shut and the bars rattle with the weight of something, _someone_ crashing against them.

Panted breaths, wet. The scent of blood, heavy in the air. Finally:

“Bastards! Come back and fight me!”

Kidd’s eyes snap open.

_Ah, fuck._

*

“Hey.”

Twenty steps up, twenty steps down.

“Shithead. I’m talking to you.”

The silhouette moves, up and down, in constant motion. A beast, caged, heaving with rage.

“ _Strawhat._ ”

A growl, “What?”, the word cut short by gnashing teeth. Unflinching, Kidd meets the glare glinting amidst swathes of bandages. They’re spotted black with blood.

“Sit the fuck down. They’re not coming back.”

A minute ticks by, then two. Monkey D. Luffy relents, the dejected frown on his lips perhaps real, perhaps something Kidd imagines. It’s hard to see shit in the dead of night, _especially_ long-lost rivals who by some unholy coincidence decided to show up in the most unlikely of places.

“Screw them.” Strawhat throws himself against the wall with all the grace of a soggy towel, close enough that Kidd hears the strained hiss he exhales under his breath. Chains rattle with every motion.

“ _Screw this._ I would’ve sent them all flying without the Sea Stone.”

Looks like they fucked him up good – sounds like it too, Strawhat’s voice raspy like he screamed his vocal cords to shreds. Kidd watches him settle down, knees pulled up and cuffed hands hanging in-between, limp.

A pretty tragic sight, all in all, not that Kidd particularly cares.

“Think I’m sitting here for shits and giggles?” He scoffs. “Get in line, brat. I’m killing them first”, and it’s not as satisfying a thing to say without Strawhat rising to the challenge.

In fact, the guy doesn’t reply at all. Back against the wall, Strawhat’s eyes search the bit of sky they can glimpse from their spot. There’s nothing to see, Kidd knows: Udon’s nights are devoid of stars, even the moon’s gaze turned elsewhere.

Kidd doesn’t _care_ but it’s been just himself and his thoughts down here for a week now.

Killer would probably shrug it off, if their places were reversed: All this extra time would go into thinking up a plan to get out of here – perhaps get in that nap he’s been complaining about not-getting for weeks now – and… Kidd’s not one for scheming, never had to be. Brawling and killing and fucking, that’s what he’s good at and he’s always done it with Killer by his side.

The thought makes Kidd shift in place. The chains pull taut, the raw skin of his wrist burning with it. _How pathetic._

“The hell are you doing here, anyways?”

 _Smooth_ is another thing Kidd is not, and it’s good Strawhat is as dumb as the day is long. Which is very, locked in a box made of bare, uncaring rock.

“I’m not supposed to tell”, says the brat, quietly, like he’s trying to contradict every single thing Kidd remembers about him. (Which isn’t much but it’s _enough_. No one who has the nerve to deck a World Noble and rail against the powers that be at every turn sounds like that.)

Kidd spits, “Fuck that”, and Strawhat just… shrugs _._ “So you’re still sailing with Law. Didn’t think the prissy bastard would stick around that long. You aiming for Kaido or what?”

Blinking at him, Strawhat’s surprise is apparent despite the bandages. “You know?”

“Are you stupid?” (Kidd doesn’t pause, the question more than rhetorical.) “Some people read the damn paper.”

 _Some people_ being Killer, so: Yes, Kidd knows.

“Ah. Traffy won’t like that.” Strawhat rubs his chin, realizes he can’t, pulls with some measure of frustration at the gauze around his jaw. It comes loose, badly done in the first place. Unraveling in the matter of seconds. “He didn’t get caught, though. That’s good.”

There’s genuine relief there, and Kidd laughs. “You mean he turned tail and left you behind. There’s a difference, dipshit.”

Bloody bandages are thrown aside. Strawhat gives him a look, ticked off.

“Traffy’s not like that.”

“ _Everyone’s_ like that”, Kidd bites back, a little faster than he means to, and the grin drops off his painted lips. “Whatever. See if I care.”

Silence falls, then, more than tense in this limited space, and while the previous monotony was bad having Strawhat here is worse: Somehow _this_ Strawhat is even more annoying than the bubbly fool with the devil-may-care smile he met that day at Sabaody, all sulky and seething anger yet too drained to do anything about it.

A wildly familiar feeling and isn’t that a shitty realization to have, an hour into their captivity?

It grinds Kidd’s gears enough that he turns his back to him, tugging his fur coat tighter around the bare stump of his left arm. Sleep is going to be a challenge with Strawhat’s gaze etching a sense of danger across his neck; the drag of Sea Stone will get Kidd there eventually and so he focuses on that instead.

Of course, Strawhat pipes up before he can even get close to testing that theory.

“You fought him, too. Right, Spikey? You fought Kaido.”

 _Spikey?_ Kidd’s lips press together, a tight red line Strawhat can’t see. _What am I, a dog?_

“Spikey.”

“I have a fucking name, Strawhat.”

Kidd might as well have said jack shit with how little Strawhat is listening. “I did. Traffy said it's a bad idea and he tried to stop me but–”

Strawhat isn’t known to _hesitate_ like this and really, it doesn’t matter. The haunted edge to his voice tells Kidd the gist of how _that_ hopeless endeavor went, and his memories fill out the rest.

He stares into the dark and waits all the same.

“Spikey.” A strained breath, shivering on the exhale. “Did he get your crew, too?”

The tears are silent yet Kidd knows they’re there. Knows because that was him, a week ago, beaten bloody and furious and suddenly, shockingly _alone_.

It shouldn’t matter, none of it should.

Crying about it won’t change the fact they’re in here and their crews are out there, dead or alive – and even after a week in this hell Kidd still hopes it’s the latter. That, wherever they are, they’re laying low and still _breathing_ when he finds his way back to them.

Luffy sniffs, wet and disgusting. Kidd closes his eyes and sighs.

“… Go to sleep, Strawhat. You’ll need it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I... freaking love Kidd. I love Killer. My heart aches for both. (This might be a good moment to mention they're my only proper OTP for One Piece hhhh) 
> 
> Anyhow! The prison arc is heartbreaking and I'm here for it.
> 
> Also!! I've seen conflicting info if it's "Kid" or "Kidd"? I think the first is the official translation, the second is closer to the Japanese spelling (キッド _kiddo_ ). I've used "Kidd" for my other fics so I'm using it here too, just as a head's up. (Also, part 2: I know Luffy's nickname for him is translated as "Jaggy" but "Spikey" is just objectively funnier.)


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta-read by [Pitte](https://twitter.com/PPitteArt).

Kidd is awake before Strawhat, that first day.

Time is a nebulous concept, measured by shades of grey and shifting shadows. A mouse scuttles by, looking for scraps, and Kidd lets it nip at his boot for a bit before he shoos it away.

Outside, not a single soul moves. The stone pit will be busy soon enough.

Strawhat snorts in his slumber and turns around, sleeping off his clash with Kaido one snore at a time. He’s a _mess_ , hair plastered in place with blood long dried, the yukata he wears torn and drenched in it, too. Blue from his fingers to his wrists, and Kidd didn’t even know a rubber man can bruise. It makes him wonder whether his metal fist would withstand whatever punches the brat dished out to get those.

Kidd smirks. Something to keep in mind for the day the shackles come off.

He leaves Strawhat to it; the guards are still a while out anyways. Instead, Kidd twists in his chains, far enough to wipe his lips against his fur coat. The thing is done for anyways, crusted with dust and filth of all kinds. There’s a handsewn pocket hidden in the lining that Kidd reaches into, straining his wrist to grab what’s inside.

Despite the encounter with an Emperor (among other things), his lipstick has yet to break. The case is a little dented, sure, bullet worn almost to the nub – Kidd didn’t exactly count on being imprisoned for a week – but it’ll do. After years of daily use, Kidd has no need for a mirror or any sort of diligence for this, the shape of his mouth traced in one fluid motion.

Finding this shade of red in the New World was a pain in the ass to say the least: The rest of his stash is on the Punk and that’s another reason his ship better be fine and not at the bottom of the ocean. Lives have been lost over much, much less.

Kidd smacks his lips when he’s done. Repeats the process with the trusty kohl pencil he takes to each of his eyes, the black lines surrounding them reinforced with easy precision.

_Much better._

His nails are a whole other story. In the dim morning light, Kidd runs his thumb over their smooth, lacquered texture; he doesn’t get very far without hitting scratches and the odd hole where crimson polish has chipped off entirely.

On any other day, it would be a quick fix. Just a matter of nudging Killer awake next to him and watch him paint on another coat with patient hands. Return the favor in Killer’s favorite blue, if needed.

Now, the bottle of nail polish is an odd weight in his hand. Kidd frowns. It’ll be impossible to get the right angle like this.

“What ya got there, Spikey? Food?”

Kidd doesn’t as much startle as throw a glare over his shoulder – only to realize that _Strawhat is right next to him_. Big, curious eyes are all the bigger mere inches from his face, and Kidd jerks his hand away before Strawhat can finish grabbing for it.

“Paws off or I’ll bite them off”, Kidd barks between clenched teeth. _Who knew the little shit could be this sneaky?_ Strawhat straight up ignores him, climbing over Kidd to get to his chained hand.

“C’mon, share! I’m so hungr– Ah!”

Even clad in Sea Stone, the guy tastes like rubber and sweat. _Urgh._ Kidd bites down all the same, only letting go when Strawhat pushes at his head and scrambles for a swift retreat on flip-flopped feet.

His arm comes away bloody, teeth marks a perfect half-circle on his skin.

“You bit me!”

There’s a grin on Kidd’s lips, growing wider when he wipes at the corners of his mouth and nothing comes away smudged. “Told ya”, Kidd spits the words out along with the dirt on his tongue. _Disgusting._ “This ain’t even food, you stupid fuck.”

Strawhat tilts his head at him and Kidd rolls his eyes, shows him the tiny flask held between two fingers.

“Oh! It’s that stuff for the nails. The one that smells bad.”

 _Look who’s talking._ Kidd huffs. “Yeah. Stop bothering me.”

A moment passes and Strawhat actually stays away, sitting cross-legged and slumped with his elbows on his knees. That _should’ve_ been the end of it: By the time Kidd has shaken and opened the bottle and balanced it somewhat precariously on his leg, Kidd’s full attention is focused on the wet shine of the delicate brush.

But so is Strawhat’s. It’s _unnerving_.

“ _What?_ ”

“Huh? I didn’t say anything.”

“You’re staring. Fuck off.”

Strawhat doesn’t fuck off. “Isn’t that kinda hard? With, um…”, a vague gesture towards what remains of Kidd’s left arm, “that. How are you gonna do your thumb and stuff?”

Kidd turns his head slowly. His pulse thrums hot in his veins. “You looking for a fight?”

“What? No.” The brat has the nerve to look annoyed. “Jeez. I’m just saying, this place is boring as hell and there’s no food. It sucks.”

Kidd stares. Waits for the connection between one and the other to make sense. “And?”

Chin on his hands, Strawhat’s eyebrows draw into an even deeper frown, cheeks puffed out. It’s… a pout. Strawhat is _pouting_.

“I can help with that, y’know. Robin and Nami let me paint their nails _all_ the time.”

A laugh bubbles up before Kidd can stop it. He shakes his head, “You’re so full of shit”, turns back to the task at hand. The tip is dipped in again and–

The cuff jerks at his hand. Kidd freezes. The bottle wobbles dangerously without anything to steady it, its precious contents on the precipice of spilling all over the dirty floor.

Breathless seconds later, it stabilizes enough to screw the lid back on.

A defeated sigh. “Monkey.”

“Hm?”

Kidd tells him, “This is my last bottle”, slow and deliberate. “Break it and you _will_ die.”

Strawhat blinks, lifts his head. A smile is quick to burst on his lips, all sunny and delighted, damn him. “Gotcha!”

A rather clumsy shuffle to Kidd’s side makes him regret his decision almost immediately but Strawhat’s fingers are careful as he takes the nail polish from Kidd, handling it like one would a fledgling bird or perhaps a rare butterfly. When Strawhat gets to work, he does so with his tongue sticking out of his mouth and a look of concentration on his face that Kidd has only seen in battle before.

 _Huh._ Perhaps there are worse things out there than having Strawhat Luffy as a cell mate.

*

That first day in the stone pit ends with a veritable feast for both of them.

By the second, Strawhat has managed to piss off the guards enough that they hook his shackles to the wall, too, and the twisting and pulling and gnawing on the chains for hours on end had provided _some_ form of entertainment.

On the third, Kidd catches heat right along with him for helping that old fart with not-starving, and they’re locked in two separate cells right next to each other instead. Which, as much as Kidd _doesn’t care_ , means he can kiss the semi-functional plan he’d come up with goodbye. Strawhat attracts trouble like shit does the flies – it’s… not exactly new information. Sabaody _is_ a little hard to forget, even two years later.

(This is the reason why Killer’s the one with the plans.)

 _Fuck it._ He has never been the guy to shut up and follow another, no matter how many times the world will go tits up in Strawhat’s wake. No, Kidd has his own path to walk: One that will lead him to a crew to be saved and a ship to be recovered and traitors to be hunted and there, at the very end of it, to One Piece itself.

The fourth day sees Queen return to Udon under thunderous applause. By then, Kidd has slipped the guards and climbed his way to freedom without a single glance back.

*

The Wasteland is ahead, Flower Capital beyond that.

Sea Stone weighs heavier with every step, the sun too-bright in his eyes. Over and over, Kidd runs his thumb over his nails and smiles grimly.

There’s not a single crack in the polish.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kidd's makeup being flawless even in prison was a true king move and so this had to happen, hehehe.
> 
> Honestly, something rare happened with this fic - I pretty much abandoned my original idea (which was to do a typical prison/torture type thing) half-way through. It just doesn't feel right to exploit such a topic given what's going on in the world right now...
> 
> I hope this little fic was still an enjoyable read. Please stay safe everyone!
> 
> Additional note: Keeping the topic of Killer somewhat platonic for this series was another thing I struggled with so I decided to push the Kidd/Killer stuff into a separate fic. ~~Dunno when that one will be up but given Chapter 981 made my wig fly into orbit it shouldn't be too long asdkfjsakfjh~~
> 
> EDIT: It took me exactly six hours lmao [here's the sequel](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24560473/chapters/59312350)!
> 
> EDIT 2: [And the Kidkiller series to match.](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1793440)

**Author's Note:**

> [tumblr](https://kawaiibooker.tumblr.com) / [twitter](https://twitter.com/kawaiibooker)


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